


Playdoh's Not For Eating

by touchinghearts



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Crossover, Crush, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Romance, age gap, chibi characters, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchinghearts/pseuds/touchinghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. JongKey fights and Minho has a present for his teacher Jinki. Kid!SHINee plus teacher!Jinki (and kid!SuJu, but no Taem-bb D:).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playdoh's Not For Eating

**Author's Note:**

> Based on fanart. As stated in the summary, the members of SHINee have all been chibi-fied, with the exception of Jinki who becomes their teacher. Also contains eight year old with a crush on the teacher. There is also chibi!SuJu.
> 
> Unbeta-ed, and the title is credited to my honeybun Remmy. <3

“I just want to use it for just a little! It’s the colour I need!”

“But it’s my crayon!”

“You should share!”

“I don’t wanna give it to you.” Jonghyun pouted, crossing his arms and holding the crayon tightly in his small fist.

“It’s just to colour the hat!”

“No, it’s _mine_. You can’t have it!”

Kibum’s little, doll-like face screwed up. The other boy, sensing imminent danger, ducked under the table and braced himself.

“JIIINKIIIII-HYUUUNG!” The howl shook the rafters of the classroom. “JONGHYUN-HYUNG WON’T SHARE HIS CRAYONS!” He stamped his foot on the ground and began to wail at the top of his voice.

Instantly the tiny child was swept up in strong arms. Lee Jinki cradled Kibum close and rocked him lightly. Kibum flung his tiny, thin arms around Jinki’s neck, weeping into his chest.

“J-Jonghyun-hyung is being mean!” he whimpered.

“Shh,” Jinki cooed, ruffling the eight-year old’s hair. “C’mon, sweetheart, stop crying now. It’s just one crayon.”

“B-but I wanted to finish my hat!” Kibum sobbed. “The whole outfit was almost done! And he won’t let me borrow it ‘cause he’s mean!”

“Am not!” Jonghyun snapped, crawling out from under the table. He took one look at Jinki cradling the crying Kibum and rushed over to cling to Jinki’s leg. “Tell him I’m not mean, hyungie!”

Jinki looked down into huge puppy eyes and sighed. “Jjong-ah,” he said gently. “Why won’t you let Kibummie borrow a crayon? It’s nice to share.”

Jonghyun pouted and clung even tighter to Jinki’s leg. He looked down at the ground and scuffed his shoe against the tiles.

“His drawing is no fun,” he muttered.

“Yes it is!” Kibum snarled down at him. “You just can’t app…appru…” He looked at Jinki, still teary but at least in his righteous anger he had stopped crying. “What’s that word you used yesterday, Jinki-hyung? When you were lecturing us because we didn’t like the cookies Fany-noona gave us?”

Jinki pretended to huff. “I wasn’t _lecturing_ you,” he said. “And the word’s ‘appreciate’. It means to be thankful.”

Kibum looked back at Jonghyun with a scowl. “You don’t appreciate art!” he said smartly.

“All you do is draw clothes!” said Jonghyun, sticking his tongue out. “That’s not art.”

“All _you_ do is draw dinosaurs! That’s not art either!”

“Dinosaurs are cool, okay! Way cooler than your girly stuff.”

Jinki sighed when Kibum’s eyes began to water again.

“My clothes aren’t g-girly!” he began to howl and Jinki rushed to rock him again.

“Of course they aren’t, Kibummie,” he reassured, pecking the plump cheek. He felt little fingers dig into his hip and looked down at the pouting Jonghyun. “Jjong-ah, that isn’t a nice thing to say.”

Jonghyun’s pout became more pronounced and he let go, head bowed. Jinki realised he was close to tears as well. Gently he lowered Kibum to the floor to stand opposite the seven-year old and squatted beside them. Kibum kept his arms around Jinki’s neck, refusing to let go. He buried his nose into Jinki’s shoulder.

“Jjong-ah,” said the art teacher quietly, causing the boy to look up. His huge eyes weren’t wet but his lips were trembling even as they were clamped shut. “Do you remember what I always say?”

Jonghyun looked away again and he fisted his hands in his shirt, streaked with paint from the previous painting war the tiny class had gone through. He didn’t answer. Jinki reached out and brushed away a single tear that had rolled down his cheek. He cupped it, making Jonghyun turn back to meet his kind gaze.

“Hyunnie?” Jinki prodded.

Jonghyun let out a shaky breath, his big brown eyes downcast and guilty. “Everyone has their own hearts to draw,” he mumbled, “so we’re not all the same.”

Jinki’s smile was soft. “Is it bad that Kibummie likes to draw clothes and you like to draw dinosaurs?” He pried Kibum off him although the little boy wouldn’t look at Jonghyun.

Jonghyun was still on the verge of tears, more fat drops rolling down his face. “No,” he said, his voice watery.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” said Jinki, glancing at Kibum. “Kibummie?”

Kibum didn’t look at him either. “I guess,” he said reluctantly, eyes on the floor.

“So shouldn’t both of you be helping each other show why you like to draw what you do?”

Jonghyun kicked at the floor again. “I guess,” he muttered.

Kibum pouted. “But he won’t let me borrow his crayon,” he whined half-heartedly.

Jinki looked at Jonghyun. “Hyunnie, won’t you let Kibummie borrow your crayon? You know sharing is the nice thing to do.”

Jonghyun stared at them both and sniffed. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll give you the crayon, ‘bummie.”

Kibum, in his typical 180 degree fashion, instantly brightened. “Thanks, Jjong-hyung!” he exclaimed happily and threw himself onto the older boy. “You’re the best!”

Jonghyun coloured but he automatically wound his arms around Kibum. “I know,” he said, but Jinki could see the grin splitting his cheeks. The tears had stopped.

The teacher’s smile widened and he ruffled their hair. “Naughty brats,” he said affectionately. “I don’t know why you fight so much when you’re the best of friends.”

Kibum whined about his hair getting messy and Jonghyun ducked away but they both beamed up at him. Jinki chuckled.

“Go draw something for Taeminnie,” he said, giving them light pokes that had them giggling together. “He’s sick today and he’d be really happy if you give him something when he comes back.”

The pair lit up at the idea.

“C’mon, Kibummie!” said Jonghyun, grabbing Kibum’s hand. “We can draw him a T-rex!”

Kibum let himself be tugged along. “Only if you let me give it clothes!”

Jinki laughed as he straightened. With an affectionate smile, he let his eyes sweep through his tiny arts class.

Over in the corner he could see Kyuhyun and Sungmin, two ten-year olds who tended to draw the same thing no matter the subject matter, poking through one of the books Jinki had brought to inspire the students. Jungsu, thirteen and the eldest of the class, was wrestling with Youngwoon and Siwon. Jinki’s gaze lingered on them for a moment to make sure they weren’t about to hurt themselves but once he registered their wild giggling, he moved on.

Yesung, Kibum and Ryeowook were quietly painting – predictably, they were always so serious – and Hyukjae was arguing, yet again, with Donghae. Jinki felt his smile widening and shook his head as he watched them try to add to each other’s drawings. He looked at the corner and saw, much to his amusement, the rest of the class snoozing away. Heechul was curled up around Han Geng, while Donghee was on his back, snoring. Jinki shook his head, exhaling amusedly.

The smile faded when he caught sight of the lone boy sitting at the window seat. Minho wasn’t usually by himself. Usually he would be found messing around with the other children, playful and loud, true to his cheerful personality that had only come out when he was comfortable. Jinki could still remember the beginning days when Minho first joined the art class. He had been so quiet then, so shy and sweet.

It was only when the older boys had pounced on him that he drew out of his shell. He was a mischievous little one, Jinki reflected, now that he was more open. Always getting into trouble. He couldn’t quite remember how many times he’d scolded the tyke for knocking over the painting cabinet or playing soccer indoors. Minho would just look cowed for a few moments afterwards before beginning his next big adventure that would most likely end up in disaster. Paint-all-over-the-class-Jinki-and-kids sort of disaster.

But Jinki had a rather large soft spot for those humongous brown eyes and that face of an angel. All Minho had to do was beam up at him and all of Jinki’s anger would melt away like ice on lava. Jinki couldn’t even find it in him to be angry at the rascal for starting the paint war that had wrecked havoc over his classroom. Minho held a bigger part of his heart than he liked to admit.

Right now the small eight-year old was sitting alone at the window, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. Jinki tilted his head as he regarded him, and then made the decision to walk over.

“Minho-ah?” he called softly, once he was a few feet away.

To his surprise, Minho jumped violently as if someone had screamed in his ear and snapped his head up, eyes enormous.

“Jinki-hyung!” he yelped, rushing to cover whatever it is that he had been writing from Jinki’s curious gaze. “Where’d you come from!”

Jinki raised an eyebrow at him. “Land of evil teachers who won’t stop giving homework, according to Taeminnie,” he answered with a well-meaning grin. Unexpectedly, Minho didn’t grin back. Jinki blinked.

“What are you doing?” he asked hesitantly, squatting beside him.

“Don’t come any closer!” Minho pulled the paper to the side where his teacher couldn’t see it.

Jinki repressed a confused frown. “What’s wrong, Minho-ah?”

Minho looked down, unwilling to meet Jinki’s soft eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbled, “I just don’t want you to look.”

Jinki stared at him. Minho was one of his best students and he had never been shy to show his art before. He had always been proud of it. It was strange that he refused to show Jinki what he was drawing now when he was usually more than eager. Jinki didn’t want to think so but he felt just a little bit hurt that Minho was hiding it from him.

“Ah…okay.” Jinki tried to think of something else to say as he eyed the brush in Minho’s fingers. “Are you painting something, Minho-ah?”

Large brown eyes shot up sharply but quickly dropped again. “Maybe,” Minho muttered, stubbornly looking at anything but his teacher.

“Is it for Taeminnie?” Jinki guessed with a small smile, “He’s sick so you’re drawing something for him as a ‘get better’ present?”

Minho snuck a glance at him but still, he wasn’t smiling. It was bewildering for the young teacher.

“Seunsengnim, can you go away for a bit?” Minho suddenly requested.

Silence. Jinki’s mouth opened but he couldn’t quite say anything. None of his students ever called him ‘seunsengnim’. Jinki had always felt old when they did and he wasn’t an actual teacher anyway; he only held these art classes as a hobby. Everyone called him ‘hyung’ and Minho had never had any qualms with it. Jinki stared at him in shock and then quickly straightened.

“Of…of course, Minho-ah,” he said with a smile that was not strained, not at all, “I’ll leave you alone. Good luck with your drawing!”

Minho grunted and didn’t even look up. Jinki stood there for a moment, feeling out of sorts, then shook his head. He turned and began to head towards Hyukjae and Donghae who were getting a little rowdy. He couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder at Minho, who had bent his head back over his paper. His face was serious as he started his work again.

Minho’s probably just wants to concentrate on his drawing, Jinki tried to convince himself. ‘It’s nothing to worry about.’

He didn’t stop worrying about it even when the class ended. Jinki watched as Minho packed everything into his bag just like everyone else was doing. The students were all noisy with the excitement of being able to leave.

“Bye, Jinki-hyung!” Kibum’s squeaky voice called, one of his hands clasped firmly in Jonghyun’s. The other boy waved madly at his teacher before tugging Kibum out the door, chattering away.

The other kids all mimicked him, calling out goodbye greetings as they filed out of the class one by one. Jinki smiled and petted each one on the head as they passed him out the door. They grinned and whined and hugged him, promising to see him again next week. He laughed and waved them off. It was always pleasant to watch the excited children bouncing out so full of energy.

“Jinki-hyung?”

Jinki started and turned to see Minho standing beside him, eyes fixed to the ground with his bag hooked over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw how nervous the boy looked, although he didn’t know why.

“Did you forget anything, Minho-ah?” he said, tousling his short hair affectionately and bending down on one knee so he could look the small boy in the face.

“No,” Minho mumbled. He was staring rather intently at his feet. He seemed scared witless for some absurd reason.

Jinki was confused. “Did you want to say something to me, Minho-ah?” he queried kindly.

Minho looked around nervously and when he had confirmed that there was no one to see him, he suddenly thrust his hand out into Jinki’s face. Jinki flinched back in surprise and then blinked.

“What’s this?” he asked, registering that it was a folded piece of sketching paper. He took it uncertainly.

“It’s…for you,” Minho whispered, his cheeks colouring. “Look at it.”

Jinki tilted his head and unfolded it. He gasped when his eyes fell on the exquisite hand-painted rose splayed across the page. Every petal and curve was outlined magnificently, if somewhat messily, with good attention to detail. It was red and beautifully-drawn, showcasing how much talent Minho had at the tender age of eight.

This was probably what he had been working on earlier, the teacher realised. It would make sense that Minho hadn’t wanted Jinki to see it when it wasn’t finished.

“This is for me, Minho-ah?” said Jinki in awe. “This is lovely! Thank…” He trailed off when he looked towards the bottom of the paper. Beneath the long leafy stem were the curly, black words: **_“I like you, Jinki-hyung. -Minho”_**

Jinki looked up. Minho was completely flushed now and his eyes seemed permanently fixed on his toes. Jinki felt his face soften significantly.

“It’s beautiful, Minho,” he said sincerely, his voice gentle. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Minho said, sounding somewhat strangled. “I wanted to.”

Jinki leaned forward so the little boy would look at him straight-on. “I like you, too,” he whispered, winking conspiratorially.

Minho’s eyes grew as big as they could possibly get. “Really?” he said, hopeful, even as his blush became worse.

Jinki smiled softly. “Really,” he said and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Minho’s flamed even worse than before, his expression ecstatic. Jinki laughed.

“You should get home,” he reminded him, patting Minho’s cheek. “I’m sure your mother is waiting outside.”

“O…okay,” Minho stuttered. He took a deep breath and then abruptly kissed Jinki’s cheek. “Um…bye, Jinki-hyung!”

Shocked, Jinki could only gape as Minho darted out of the classroom as fast as his short legs could carry him. It was only when the kid turned around to wave that he regained his senses and got to his feet, huffing with laughter.

“Cheeky brat,” muttered Jinki, the grin threatening to split his face. He watched as Minho climbed into his car and waved again. He waved back before turning around and moving towards his desk.

He looked around his classroom, partially-destroyed thanks to the paint war Minho had instigated when he’d thrown a glomp of paint at Jungsu. It would take a lot of time to clean the whole mess up. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry because he had been part of that paint war as much as the kids had been. He was at fault.

Plus, it had been the most fun he had ever had.

Jinki looked down at the paper he held in his hand. The painted rose stared back at him, with Minho’s scrawled handwriting underlining it. He touched his cheek, recalling how bright Minhi’s face had been, and smiled. He placed the paper into a folder from his bag for safekeeping.

As he searched around for the elusive mop, he wondered if it was possible to get the picture framed.

 

 **END**


End file.
